


dark hours of the sun (i found out too late)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Ad Astra per Aspera [7]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Arguing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Full Moon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Record Deals, References to Depression, Supernatural Elements, Werewolf Mates, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-02-15 14:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18671803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Brian isn't handling the most recent revelation as well as he would like, the others are starting to catch on that things might not be alright.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so bad at staying on a hiatus. But also. I had this written for a good two weeks because we're finally getting into the fun part of the series! Next chapter up sometime after I don't have to worry about finals! Until then enjoy and speculate Also timeline/order series gets wonky here because we're covering a lot of ground the chapter, so technically Schatz takes place within this chapter.  
> Forgive me if I ever write one-shots for this series.  
> Okay go read!

“Brian!”

He rolls out of the way just before Roger lands on his bed. Freddie is impossible to dodge. He groans as he’s forced backward with a knee in his stomach. There’s a scuffle above him, and he tries to catch John’s eyes who is standing in the door.

John shakes his head.

“Traitor,” Brian mumbles.

He shrugs.

“Why did you wake me up?”

Freddie leans back with a large grin on his face. Brian tilts his head. Roger is also grinning, even John has a small smile. It’s good news then, but what?

“We received a call early this morning,” Freddie says coyly.

Brian frowns. They weren’t expecting one, were they?

“Trident Records wants to meet with us!” Roger blurts.

“Seriously?” Brian gasps.

“It sounds like they want to give us a deal,” John nods.

He grins, “when is the meeting?”

“Friday at noon.”

His smile falls, “that’s near-”

“They know, and it doesn’t seem to bother them.”

Brian grimaces. He won’t know until the meeting but knowing and reaching out is a step in the correct direction. Roger crawls around and him and hugs him. He leans back against it. A contented sigh leaves his lips. Then he tenses, this is exactly what he wants to avoid.

It’s been two months and the only other person that knows is Chrissie, who finally accepted that he isn’t telling them.

“Don’t worry Bri,” Roger nuzzles against his neck, “if he’s an asshole we’ll walk.”

“We don’t have the leverage to do that.”

“But we can’t have them be an asshole to you,” Freddie says.

Brian shakes his head, “they offered to meet. Let’s meet. Anything else we handle, but we need this deal.”

John frowns, “we’re good enough to get another label interested.”

“We are, but three supernaturals and one being a lykan makes it harder.”

Freddie rolls his eyes, “again, you give yourself too much credit.”

Brian whines.

“We’re better than anything out there. Someone is bound to sign us.”

Brian laughs as joins them on the bed and they curl around each other. He’s in the middle and quickly starts to overheat. Roger shifts so now Brian is in between his legs. John rolls onto the outside of the bed and Freddie settles against the wall. He tilts his head and sniffs. All three scents settle amongst his.

Roger pulls him back so now he’s nearly laying on the drummer.

“Roger, we have things to do.”

“No, celebratory cuddles.”

“Seconded,” Freddie mumbles.

John snores loudly. Roger snorts in his hair and Brian frowns. He’s still not sure why John trusts them so much being the only human (or how he falls asleep so quickly), but it makes him happy. Brian ducks his head; this isn’t helping his problem.

* * *

They get the deal with the aim to release the tentatively named Queen I out by next summer. Their spirits are high because they get a studio to record in for a much cheaper rate than usual and better equipment, not that Brian would ever change the Red Special out for any guitar. Sheffield isn’t any more anti-lykan than the general population. There’s nothing in the past three months that Brian can complain about.

That’s a lie.

Time in the studio means close quarters with Roger and John in longer intervals with fewer breaks. The urge to blurt everything out builds. As the urge builds, he pulls away to stop it. His participation limits itself to pitching ideas or critiques. His temper is shorter and in turn, it makes the others more snappish.

“I’ll meet you at the flat,” he says.

Roger rolls his eyes, “another solo you want to rewrite?”

“No,” Brian frowns.

He hadn’t thought he was staying behind that often. Playing the Red Special is how he clears his head, it’s as relaxing as it is isolating.

“I’m practicing the one for Modern Times Rock n’ Roll.”

“Sure,” John says as he wanders over to Roger.

Brian tilts his head and swallows the whine in his throat.  Roger and John were closer than they had been at the start of recording. He moves a step and sees that they’re holding hands. It was more than a one night stand?  That’s not something that he would’ve missed right? Dizziness overwhelms him, and he can’t decide to be elated or hurt.

It’s what he wanted. He guessed it would happen.

“I’ll let stay behind too, I have a new idea for a song.”

“See you later, then.”

Brian adjusts his strap. His hands shake, even as he wraps on around the neck.

“You can’t blame anyone but yourself, you backed away.”

He jumps. Freddie is sitting on the bench of the piano watching him with an intensity he’s never seen before. Brian bites his cheek.

“It isn’t that.”

“No?” Freddie leans back, “are you trying to tell me that you don’t care that Roger is in a relationship or that you don’t have feelings for him.”

Brian sighs, “this is what I wanted.”

Freddie stands and puts his hands on his hips, “Brian that’s too self-sacrificing even for you.”

He sighs and slides down the wall, “they’re good for each other.”

“True,” Freddie sits across from him, their knees touching, “but you wouldn’t have been any worse for him.”

“But I would’ve been, in the long run.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“That’s because you don’t know.”

“What don’t I know?” Freddie clicks his tongue, “is it a lykan thing?”

“Yes.”

Brian looks down at his laps. He closes his hands into fists. The frustration and longing bubble under his skin. Telling anyone would be better than this feeling. He just doesn’t know how anyone will react.

“Is that why you’ve been distant lately?”

“Mostly.”

He hears Freddie shift closer and doesn’t jump at the arm around his shoulders. Freddie doesn’t ask but Brian finds himself offering.

“Lykans mate for life, once your brain goes _them,_ that’s it.”

“Has yours?”

“Mm.”  
Freddie hums and drags him closer. Brian buries his nose in Freddie’s neck and lets the jasmine ground him.

“And I won’t do that to them.”

“Do what?”

Brian shrugs, “start that relationship. They wouldn’t know it’s different. It might end up trapping them.”

“Explain it to them, they have the right to know, you don’t have to suffer alone.”

“You sound like Chrissie.”

“I was wrong then, about you dating her?”

“She’s just a friend.”

“I’m sorry.”

Brian lifts his face from Freddie’s neck, “isn’t your fault.”

“I can still apologize for being insensitive.”

“Can we just work? I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” Freddie stokes his curls.

“No,” Brian shakes his head, “but I have to figure out what _I_ want to do.”

“Sure,” Freddie nods, “do you want to hear my new song?”

* * *

May brings rain.

They’re a good portion of the way through the recording. It should be released soon. He’ll be glad when it’s done, then maybe he can get rid of this new stomachache that’s been plaguing him for a week. His usual energy leading up to the forced shift is replaced by near-constant stabbing against his stomach.

The others have noticed his lack of enthusiasm but haven’t called him on it yet.

When the day of the full moon hits, the stomachache radiates outward and it becomes a full body pain. He whines and twists on his bed. When he flexes his foot and a cramp runs up his calf. A shift has never felt like this. Come night, he’s still in his human form and in more pain than he can process.

He’s heard about skipped shifts before, but they’ve never meant anything good. Brian rolls onto his side, knees to chest. The front door opens and it’s as loud as an explosion. He clamps his hands over his hears. Brian tries to lengthen his nails to ease some of the pain centered in his palm.

He can’t.

There’s a soft knock on the door, “we’re back, Bri.”

Brian nearly replies before he’s supposed to be shifted. Instead, he inhales the faint smell of old blood and tries to keep it with him. Something settles in his heart. The footsteps ricochet in his head. Even John’s noise from the kitchen is too loud. He pants and whines and twists. Nothing helps.

His back cramps. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t shift.

There’s a problem.

The night passes slowly and painfully. Tears stream down his face, and then his eyes run dry. He shivers with the chill of the early spring air and then pants as his skin heats up. Ever move causes a spasm or a cramp. His body doesn’t know what to do.

When his bandmates unbolt the door Brian barely reacts. He’s in too much pain to sleep but too exhausted to do anything. The second Roger’s and John’s scents reach his nose, he relaxes. Some of the tension eases out.

Roger kneels in front of him, “you’ve done a number on yourself.”

Brian cracks an eye open and whimpers.

Hands go to his hair, “shush, you’re okay. John run a bath?”

He hears someone respond, but he doesn’t want to focus on anything but Roger right in front of him. The hands in his hair.

“Okay fine, I’ll run the bath you make him something to eat. Fred? Stay with him?”

Roger leaves, and if it wouldn’t have caused his back to scream, Brian would’ve reached out for him. Jasmine hits his noise and he recoils from it before he connects it to pack. Freddie crouches in front of him.

“Okay?”

Brian shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hurting.”

“Poor thing,” Freddie grabs his arm and starts rubbing it, “I’ve always heard shifts are hard on a body. Seems unfair.”

Brian nearly laughs. Freddie thinks that all his pain is just physical. He doesn’t notice the intermingling of Roger’s and John’s scents without his. His throat aches with the effort to not spill his secret, not with them so close. Maybe he should talk to Chrissie or his mother again.

Roger returns sometime later, “okay I’ve got the bath set up. Bri you good to stand or do I have to carry you?”

Brian raises to his elbow. Closing his eyes with the twitching from his upper arm muscles. It takes him a few minutes but finally his feet touch the ground. Roger lifts his arm up, which sends a searing burn from where Roger touches him and down his spine from the movement. He bites the inside of his cheek and stands.

Was his last shift this painful? He remembers it being sad. Brian dips his head into the crown of Roger’s head and inhales. The growl swirls in his stomach at the mingled scent, but it isn’t his place to make a statement like that. Won’t be his place to ever act like that. Instead, he lets Roger drag him to the bathroom.

Brian eventually remembers how his voice works, “why?”

“What?”

“My last shifts, you left me alone.”

Roger sighs and crouches in front of him, Brian was sitting on the toilet lid, when had that happened?

“Trying something new Bri,” Roger says, “we left you alone and then you were depressed for weeks afterward.”

“Still will be,” Brian murmurs, “is what happens.”

“Okay. But you don’t have to do this alone.”

There’s that phrase again. Brian wonders if there was another lykan in the band if this would be easier. It might be, or it could be worse. He does know that they’d understand this so much better than Roger or Freddie or John could ever hope to.

“Yeah.”

Roger moves away, “alright. Call if you need me.”

Brian bites his tongue at the instant response. He needs to get away, maybe for a week. Tuck the feelings away under his heart. If he ever wanted to broach this topic with them, he has to do this without an emotional head, so that Roger and John can make an informed decision as possible. He wouldn’t be the first lykan in history to deny himself a mate.

“Yeah,” he ends up saying.

Roger sends him an odd look but steps away. Brian waits a few minutes before standing and sliding into the water. It sinks into his muscles and pulls some of his tight muscles loose. The water laps at the nail marks his maiming his palm, surprised that the human nails had managed to bite into flesh.

If he stares hard enough, he thinks he can see the lingering scars from the night he met Roger Taylor. They aren’t there, but he does remember the night because he supposes that’s when he started falling and he hasn’t stopped since. Brian supposes that if everyone else is meant to be believed that was also it for Roger, and like him, it just took him too long to realize.

Although, if he has his way, Roger isn’t ever going to realize Brian’s feelings for him. Neither is John.

He shakes himself awake at the knock on the door.

“Lunch is ready, Bri, if you want to eat with us.”

Brian gently drops his head against the rim of the tub. He pulls the plug from the drain with his foot. His stomach rebels at the idea of food, even if there’s a second pain of hunger running under the mystery ache.

“I’ll pass,” he calls.

“If you’re sure.”

He’s sure he imagines the waver in John’s voice. Slowly he pushes himself from the tub, trying to not splash water everywhere. Conversation rumbles hit his ears, but it’s pitched low and said quietly enough and the extra noises from outside and the drain keep him from understanding it. Brian can’t bring himself to care that they’re having a conversation that he obviously wasn’t meant to hear.

He towels off most of the water and wraps it around his waist. The aches have receded for now, other than his stomach, and he feels them building the more he moves. Once he’s free of the perfume-stained walls of the bathroom he can make out the mouth-watering scent of John’s favorite stew. He forces himself away from the smell and to the bedroom down the hall.

The last thing that he wants to do is have a conversation with any of them, or worse react to the pain he’s feeling and have them fawn over him. Brian drops heavily to the bed, tossing the towel in the vague direction of the laundry hamper and wiggles under the covers.

* * *

He wakes up when he hears footsteps. His body is screaming at him, but he remains still until he scents old blood. This time it’s joined but the near-constant presence of rain, but when Brian superstitiously sniffs again, he’s less calm. It stings his nose, even as faint as it is, but somehow their bond has moved to the second step without his permission and Roger’s knowledge.

He feels the bed dip, and no matter how badly he wants to run away from this, he can’t. Roger’s hand rests on his shoulder and some of the tension bleeds out of him as he leans into it.

“What’s going on Bri?” Roger says wistfully.

For a second Brian thinks he’s been caught.

“Whatever it is, I hope it stops bothering you soon. I miss my best friend.”

_Friend._ Right. That’s still what he wants. Brian wants to reply that it won’t stop bothering him, but that would give away his secret.

“And I know you’ve dealt with this alone for a long time, but Freddie, John, and I, we’re ready and willing to help when you want it.”

At that, he hears Roger move from his bed and across the room for the first time in some weeks. The overhead light flicks off, and seconds later the desk lamp clicks on. Brian resolutely ignores the twin smells of salt.

_This is what he wants._ It’s a mantra, and it repeats until he falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhh don't tell me I'm not adhering to my hiatus and should be studying. Also you'll note that the chapter count went up, because this one turned out to be uh. Uncooperative. Enjoy!

John frowns as he watches Brian vanish into his room the second they get in from the studio. He’s not sure why, they’re meant to be celebrating, Queen I will be on the shelves come July. They’ve finished the first step (and who starts with an album rather than say… being signed) in Freddie’s “Five-Step Plan to Fame.” It’s not a surprise. Something has been going on with Brian since November, and it’s gotten worse since May.

He sets his bass in his room and stares at the duvet. Roger places a kiss on the back of his neck, and he jumps in surprise. Try as he might, he’s still not over the hesitation of letting Roger near his neck.

“What have you got going on in that pretty head of yours?” Roger asks lightly.

As if they’ve spoken seriously about anything else in the past two weeks, “I’m just thinking.”  
“Bri will come around.”

John shrugs and turns around so that he can rest his head on Roger’s shoulder. Freddie is singing downstairs, his voice still clear despite singing for eight hours. The bed shifts across the hall. The house seems empty for all that it’s lived in.

“I know, but it’s been twice as long,” John sighs.

Roger frowns, “it’ll pass.”

“Do you believe that?”

This time Roger pulls away from his harsh tone. Roger looks away, a hurt grimace on his face but slowly it melts into a guilty frown.

“If he won’t come to us, we don’t have a choice.”

“We do, we can try to figure it out. It can’t be that hard we’ve seen him every day.”

“Maybe there isn’t anything,” Roger shakes his head, “sometimes people are just… sad.”  
“It can’t be healthy, eating as little and sleeping as much as him these past few months.”

“No.”

John breaks the rest of their embrace. He starts pacing. Roger watches him with crossed arms. As he turns to start his lap again, the wardrobe door bursts open. Fabrics spill out, and a box tumbles to Roger’s feet. He sighs and reminds himself to tell Freddie they’re going to have to get rid of clothes again.

Roger crouches and grabs the box, “huh.”  
“What?”

“We didn’t have to replace the duvets this time, after Brian’s shift.”

“Wonder if he just slept while in his wolf form,” John picks up a silky _thing_ and slips a hanger through it.

“He’d still be awake for the shift,” Roger shrugs.

John frowns, “maybe he was just less destructive this shift.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They clean up the rest of the room in silence.

“Although… the floor wasn’t scratched either.”

“The floor?”

“Yeah, from what I gathered before Brian’s vow of non-work-related silence; he always ends up shifting on the floor. Ruins the floor most of the time.”

John purses his lips. Brian had seemed pretty wiped out by the shift this time (not that they’ve got a good basis of comparison), “it probably was a harder shift, and he didn’t have the energy to tear up the floor.”

“Who knows,” Roger holds up another _silky_ thing, “I’m hoping this is Freddie‘s and you aren’t holding out on me.”

John lets a small smile form, “you’re insatiable.”

“It’s part of my charm,” Roger flutters his eyelids.

“You have that? News to me.”  
He expects the tackle. Roger pins him with a touch more force than a human can muster, and John knows it’s going to bruise, but they need this little bit of silliness. Roger leans down and steals a quick kiss. John chases him and makes it dirtier.

“Hey! Don’t start fucking yet! We have a whole bottle of fancy champagne to drink and I don’t want to waste it!”

“I can’t get drunk, Fred!”

John snickers.

“Come participate in culture, lord knows you need some.”

Roger shoves up to his feet, “I have plenty of culture!”

“And it’s all in this bottle.”

John takes the offered hand, “I could do with a drink, I think.”

“Or three,” Roger rumbles, “you’re fun in bed when you’re tipsy. Creative, I should say.”

He spins and tries his best to look demure as he walks backward out of the room, “then let’s see what I can think of tonight.”

Roger moves forward and drags him out of the room. John spares a glance to where Brian’s door is shut. He’s not entirely sure he _can_ get Brian off his mind. There’s something wrong and he’s going to figure it out.

“Freddie, you’re sharing with Brian tonight!”

* * *

John shifts his bag on his back. Roger is supposed to be picking him up, but it’s been fifteen minutes past their meeting time, and he resigns himself to having to beg for coins to call the flat. He rolls his head to ease some of the strain in his neck. His eyes catch on a woman sitting a few feet away, she looks familiar.

For a few seconds he can’t place her before he figures out, she’s in one of the photographs in Brian’s college album. Brian has only a few female friends he’s taken photos of, and John is nearly a hundred percent sure that her name is Chrissie. What had Freddie said about her?

That she is a proud lykan.

It’s not his place, but then he thinks about the routinely full plates Brian’s been leaving on the table in the morning. It isn’t his place, but someone has to do something before the situation gets worse. Freddie had said that Brian was close with Chrissie. John bites his bottom lip and glances out at the parking lot again. With a sigh, he starts making his way over to her.

“Hey,” John greets.

Chrissie flicks her eyes up to him, “not interested – wait, you’re a friend of Brian’s right?”

“Yeah, John Deacon.”

“Ah,” Chrissie offers her hand, “sorry.”

“It’s fine, I understand.”

They stare at each other. He gets the feeling that Chrissie doesn’t like him much, although he can’t imagine what he’s done in the twenty seconds he’s officially known her.

Finally, she breaks the silence, “is there something you need?”

John looks away, this really isn’t his place, “I actually had a, what probably seems like an inappropriate question considering we’ve only just met, but it might be important?”

“Something to do with Brian?”

“Er, yes.”

If Brian ever finds out that John is talking about him behind his back with a near stranger – John shakes his head, he wouldn’t if he didn’t think there was something worse happening that Brian isn’t telling them.

Chrissie marks the place in her book and looks at him intently, “so he finally told you and Roger?”

“Told us what?”

She winces, “he just mentioned he had something important to tell you two. Not entirely sure what.”  
John tries to think if Brian had told him anything. Nothing comes to mind, but he files the information away for later use.

“So, what did you want to ask?”

“Right,” John clears his throat, “can a lykan’s mood affect a shift, say if they’re upset leading up to the shift?”

“It might make their wolf form moodier. But it doesn’t really affect the shift if you’re talking about taking time to recover-” Chrissie hesitates.

“But?”

“It’s rare, but if a lykan is stressed or sick then they can skip a shift,” Chrissie bites her bottom lip.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Not usually, but it’s rare.”

Somehow that isn’t as reassuring as he hoped. Maybe he’s reading too much into this. Chrissie watches him. She arches a perfectly manicured brow.

“Do you think he’s skipped?”

John shakes his head, “I wouldn’t know the signs, but thank you.”

Roger is waving at him from the parking lot. Chrissie leans around him.

“That’s Roger, yeah?”

“Yes,” John backs away, “thanks again. Sorry for bothering you.”

“No worries, it’s sweet you’re so concerned about him!”

John furrows his brow but shakes his head. Chrissie probably doesn’t mean anything by that, they’re friends why wouldn’t he be concerned.

He greets Roger with a kiss when he climbs into the van.

“Who was that?”

“Chrissie. Thought I’d formally introduce myself.”

Roger shrugs, “can’t imagine she’ll be around much longer with how Brian’s been ignoring her calls.”

“She’s been calling?”

“So, Freddie says.”

John bites his lips, “do you think there’s something else at play here?”

“Like what?”

“Maybe Brian is sick?”

“I’ve never heard about a lykan getting sick,” Roger eyes him.

“I don’t know,” John shrugs, “how is he today?”

“He’s fine, in his room most of the day. Ate lunch with me.”

John nods and leans back against the seat, he doesn’t want to ask how much Brian ate but the urge settles behind his teeth. It’s odd that he can’t do anything about Brian’s mood despite knowing he’s in a bad one. Part of him wishes that he were a lykan, just so he would have a chance of understanding what Brian’s going through. Maybe he wouldn’t bottle everything up so much. Roger pulls out of the parking lot.

“Cornering him won’t get him to tell you anything he hasn’t already,” Roger says.

“I know, I just, want to help.”

“So do I, but Bri is… stubborn.”

They spend the rest of the ride in silence. John taps his fingers to the beat of whichever song comes through the radio. There’s a hope in him that someday he’ll hear Queen on the radio, he knows Roger also shares that hope so he doesn’t comment on it.

Then a catchy pop song burst through the speaker and Roger attempts to sing higher than the woman signing. John snickers into his hand when he manages it.

Roger pulls onto their road and steals the first parking place they can find, for once it’s not too far away from their flat. John grabs his bag and slides out of the van. He holds out his hand. Roger grabs it. They swing their hands wildly between them, some of the bad feelings evaporates at the silliness.

John never knows why, but recently every time he walks into the flat, he expects it to feel different. There are signs of all four them. Lately, there’s been less of Brian in their living room. Textbooks have been taken from the coffee table and the Red Special hides out in Brian’s case rather than the stands they have in the corner. John’s own bass looks lonely.

“We’re back Bri!”

As expected, there is no return call.

* * *

He doesn’t know what wakes him up. John stirs. Roger is feeding tonight and won’t be back – he squints at the clock – for an hour more at least. Freddie is still out; he’s doing _something_ with Mary. Brian is in his room, and there are no sounds that make it obvious as to why he woke up. Although he doesn’t think he can fall asleep with the mystery. He grabs a hoodie, the gray one that he thinks originally belonged to Brian, and wanders towards the main part of the flat.

Brian’s door is open for once. John shrugs and peaks in it but doesn’t see that familiar curly headed lump in the bed. He frowns. There isn’t any sign of Brian further into the flat either. It’s odd. He feels anxiety prickle at the back of his neck. Brian is an adult and there is no reason to worry about him when he isn’t accounted for. John is only concerned because of the mood that Brian’s been in the last few weeks.

_Up the fire escape._ It’s the last place he can check before falling into a panic. John pulls on a pair of socks, praying that they’re clean. He glances up at roof three stories up. Carefully John places his foot in the rung and starts climbing. The weather is starting to ease into summer warmth.

To his great relief, he spots the curly silhouette of Brian on the far end of the roof. He drops over the slight wall.

Brian turns.

“John?”

“Yeah.”

Slowly he walks nearer. He isn’t sure what Brian was thinking about, but he wants to give him the time to regather himself. Brian swings around and drops. John slides up next to him and rests his arms on the ledge. Now that he’s here, he isn’t sure what to stay.

“What are you doing up?” Brian asks.

John snorts, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Brian shrugs.

“You haven’t been around lately,” John says and let’s the _I missed you_ hang in the air.

Brian can read into it if he wants.

“Sorry,” Brian says, “I’ve been in my head a lot.”

“Mm.”

John tries to think of anything to say. This is the most non-work-related words he has gotten out of Brian in a long time. Brian tilts his head back around and stares at the sky, mimicking John’s position. The air between them is charged. It doesn’t feel as strained as it did in the studio. Maybe Brian just needed the time.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but the temperature noticeably dropped. Brian doesn’t seem intent on moving, and John doesn’t want to leave him alone. He watches the traffic pass below them, there’s not much for the late hour but enough to be entertaining.

Brian leans into him with a cocked head.

“There you are!”

John turns to see Roger, not quite gracefully, climbing over the ledge.

“I wondered why I was the only one in the house. Staring at stars? Dropping change on pedestrians?”

Brian releases a throaty laugh. John smiles reflexively. Maybe he had been worrying about nothing. Roger wraps around his waist and gently tugs him from Brian’s side. If John hadn’t been watching Brian’s smile, he would’ve missed the flicker of a frown.

It's mean but he turns his head just enough to nose into Roger’s throat. His eyes don’t leave Brian’s face, and this time his eyes flick away. There’s no change in his body language. When Brian is uncomfortable his shoulders tend to come forward.

_So, he finally told you?_

John narrows his eyes. Could Brian be guilty about what he’s hiding? Is it his relationship with Chrissie?

Roger squeezes tighter, and again Brian looks away. This time he bites his lip.

“I met Chrissie the other day,” John blurts.

He feels Roger make a noise of confusion, but more curiously is how Brian goes ram-rod straight. John taps his finger on Roger’s hand. This is the right path then. He’s never been more grateful to the fact that Brian can’t hide his emotions. Well, not since Roger mentioned that he talks more with his body than his words.

“She seems nice, surprised you get along well enough to date,” John says, “since you two have such different views.”

The eyes dart away again.

Brian clears his throat, “yeah. I guess Freddie hasn’t told you. We’re just friends.”

Behind him, Roger sags in relief. John chews the inside of his cheek. If it isn’t about his relationship with Chrissie, then what could it be? Roger’s chin digs into the soft part of his shoulder.

“What aren’t you telling us, Bri?”

Ah, that Roger Taylor tact.

“Huh?” Brian blinks.

“There’s something right?” Roger presses on, “are you quitting the band? On drugs? You failed a class?”

John is going to have to have a talk with Roger about his priorities.

“No, well maybe yes on that last one, my last essay was shit,” Brian offers a tentative smile.

John snorts, as if he hadn’t already confirmed that Brian was hiding something, that would’ve done it. Any time Brian tries to distract them by saying he’s failing, there’s something else.

“But what is it? You didn’t deny that there was something you weren’t telling us.”

Brian turns his entire body away from them, and this time the shoulders come forward. His eyes stare forward at the ledge. John pulls away from Roger since that also seems to set Brian off. He’s so close to finally figuring out how to help Brian that he feels like his heart is about to burst.

“I can’t tell you.”  
Roger yells, “bullshit.”

John steps away from Roger, unsure if there were any projectiles about to go flying.

“I can’t – it's not. It isn’t something that you can solve. Might make it worse.”

John watches Brian and then looks at Roger. He had suspected Brian harbored feelings for Roger, anyone with eyes could see the bond the two share. Roger had all but told him when they first started this _thing_ in the spirit of transparency. What could Brian have told Chrissie that he couldn’t tell the band or him? Why is Brian guilty? It would either have to hurt the band or Roger. The only common thread is him (his treacherous heart flips), and since Brian doesn’t hate him then it probably means that-

Oh.

Well.

That would certainly explain everything. John flushes relieved that Roger and Brian were having a staring contest. Despite everything in him screaming for him to stop, and to live in ignorance, his mouth moves.

“Why didn’t you just say you were interested in me?”

There were probably more delicate ways of putting that. Brian breaks eye contact with Roger and gapes like a fish. Roger glances to him and Brian with narrowed eyes.

“John, what are-?”

Brian starts hyperventilating. He drops to his knees, and John sees the way his hands flex in his hair. Roger still looks puzzled. John isn’t sure what he should do. Anyone would be upset about having one of their secretes blurted, but Brian almost seems afraid. Slowly he crouches and extends a hand.

He snatches it back when Brian flinches away with a soft growl. That jars Roger into moving to stand in front of him. John sees the line of tension in Roger’s spine. Brian and Roger have never physically fought, but even he knows that an instinct fueled fight between them is going to be disastrous.

“Anyone care to explain why there’s a Texas stand-off on my roof?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna take a big yikes on that one John. So close, yet so far. Someone help these boys. That being said leave your thoughts and comments below, or come talk to me on tumblr. (no really, leave your thoughts below because I want reactions, it's not every day I give a cliff hanger).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like it's been awhile since I posted tbh. I don't think it has been, but then again a lot of things have happened in these past two weeks. But hey! Finished with finals.   
> That being said, enjoy!

John’s head whips to Freddie standing with his hip cocked and a raised eyebrow. Roger looks too. That’s when Brian moves, and John is only distantly aware of something heavy dropping onto the fire-escape. Brian is running. He drops back onto his haunches and watches Roger flex the tension out of his fingers.

He doesn’t even know where to start an explanation. Actually, John barely understands what has happened.

“Well?” Freddie asks.

“I asked if Brian was interested in me…” John says.

“Well that couldn’t have gone worse,” Freddie purses his lips.

“I think it could’ve,” John says because there was a moment where he thought that he was going to need to break up a fight between Roger and Brian.

“No.”

John frowns. Freddie sounds certain, he usually does but this time it’s without that hint of bravado. He looks at Roger who shows no signs of his previous anger. Instead, his eyes are lingering over the spot where Brian had disappeared. They figured out what bothered him at least, but his reaction is even more worrying.

“Do you know what’s going on with him?” Roger asks quietly.

Freddie tilts his head, “not in so many words, but it has to be you two in order for him to see how unreasonable he’s being.”  
“But you do know?”

“Sworn to secrecy, but you’re on the right track, but you’ve come to the wrong conclusion,” Freddie swings one leg back over the wall, “I’ll go try to calm him down.”

John finds his feet again. Nothing is making any more sense, “Rog?”

“I don’t get what his problem is,” Roger huffs, “if he would just talk to us, we could figure it out!”

John squeezes his shoulder, “but I think we have?”

“That he doesn’t want people to know he’s into you? As if I’d get mad about that. I trust both of you.”

He frowns, truthfully, he hadn’t considered that Brian would go behind Roger’s back. Although, from his reaction, John wonders if there’s willingness there they’ve both overlooked. It’d explain the guilt, but the situation doesn’t sit right in his head. After all, he’s always been peripherally aware that Roger and Brian have a _thing._

“What if it’s something else?”

Roger turns around, “I think it’s pretty clear.”

“Maybe,” John bites his cheek, “but what if it isn’t.”  
“Then we’re no closer to figuring this out, and we’ve made it worse.”

Roger drops his to bum. He’s fidgeting, and John leans down and catches Roger worrying at his bottom lip with a ferocity that makes it bleed. He tugs it from Roger’s fangs.

“I just don’t get what happened,” Roger sighs, “we used to talk about everything, and now we’re rarely in the same room.”

John nods. It’s true and right now there’s nothing that they can do about what happened. His thoughts feel like they’re chasing each other like he’s missing something.

_So he finally told you and Roger?_

_And Roger._

He stares wide-eyed. Roger arches a brow.

“John?”

“I was wrong.”

“Okay?”

“Partially wrong.”

Roger sighs and looks at him in a way that lets him know that he isn’t in the mood for games. John taps a jittery rhythm out against his leg.

“I think he has feelings for both of us.”

“Like he would date us both at the same time?” Roger shakes his head, “I don’t know a lot about Lykans but I do know they only have one mate period.”

John shrugs, “it might not be impossible.”

“Okay, say he does have feelings for both of us, where does that put us?” Roger leans forward.

“I wouldn’t-” John nearly yells in offense to Roger’s statement, then cuts himself off with a shuttering breath, “I made a promise to be with you, I won’t go back on that in light of this.”

Roger nods, “I won’t either.”

John looks away. He trusts Roger’s word, and he knows himself that he won’t go back on his word with Roger. It still leaves them in the position of knowingly hurting Brian. That’s something he doesn’t know if he can deal with. Maybe it would have been best to let Brian figure this out on his own and remain ignorant. Except he knows that Brian wouldn’t work through this, not in any healthy way (as evidenced by the last few weeks).

They need to clear the air. He’s just not sure when he forgot how to talk to Brian about things that aren’t just related to music.

“What do we even say to him?”

Roger shrugs, “the truth? Sorry about hurting you but we’re staying together.”

John pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s the easiest and the right way to deal with this, reject Brian firmly but kindly. There’s a rebellious part of him that thinks about the ways that Brian could love him. Different but no less than Roger. He tries to shut that part off.

“I’m going to go see if Freddie’s managed to calm him down.”

Roger waves his hand in acknowledgment. John waits for a moment to see if Roger is going to follow him but the vampire makes no effort to stand. He shrugs and moves towards the fire escape. There are no signs of Brian’s rough landing, and John isn’t sure why he thought there would be. It had been loud, but Brian’s weight too little to bend the bars.

John shimmies down the ladder until he reaches their flat. No yelling can be heard, which he takes to be a good sign, or it means that Brian isn’t in the flat or he’s shut himself down completely or Freddie had to actually lure him to sleep _or or or._ John tells his brain to try and be optimistic (and the optimistic part of his brain reminds him that this is the best thing he’s ever had and if nothing else he’ll have the memories and maybe Roger for a year or two after).

He walks down the hallway only to be halted by low murmuring. It’s loud enough that he’s _just_ able to make out the words being said.

“It’s not the end of the world, dove. If you would just talk to them –“

Well. Freddie and Brian are still in the flat which is something.

“They’ll understand, it does none of us any good for you to be like this. Maybe they say no, but you’ll _know._ You can start to move on.”

John takes a step closer.

“I suppose that does make it difficult, yes.” There’s a long pause, “but you’ll not be alone.”

He gathers air in his lungs as he knocks, “it’s John.”

Brian would’ve noticed him, but it still feels better to let him know. He doesn’t know where Roger and Brian stand yet, and if this ends their friendship John knows he’s going to feel horrible because if there should be one constant in this band is their love for each other (be it platonic or romantic).

He can’t hear what’s being said. Freddie is at the door moments later, there’s a solemn look to his face. Line of tension that John hasn’t seen before.

“I think it’s best if you give him space.”

“That’s all we’ve been giving him,” John truly didn’t mean to sound so whiney, “we’re going to have to talk about this like adults.”

“Does it have to be tonight?”

John bites his lips, “whose to say it’ll ever get brought up again?”

Freddie nods, something close to approval in his eyes, “fair enough. A bit of advice? Don’t let society tell you how love needs to be.”

He keeps back the response that he’s dating Roger, and two men aren’t exactly the standard in a wedding catalog. Freddie steps out of the room fully, and John feels something drop in his stomach. He’s demanding that they talk about this, but he doesn’t even know how to broach the subject.

That’s partially a lie, if he wasn’t with Roger then he knows exactly how this would go down (without knowing where Roger is going to land in that scenario). Now Freddie is giving him a look that’s a mix between exasperated and urging. John takes another fortifying breath and enters the room and decides that it was the wrong move without Roger present.

Brian is knees to chin curled up on his bed. Even from this distance, John can see the fine tremor in his hands and the tension along his shoulders. He keeps his distance and doesn’t cross his arms despite not knowing what to do with his hands.

“Brian,” he says, his voice shaky and quiet.

“Don’t give me your pity,” Brian says surprisingly firm.

“I wasn’t going to – we need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Brian shrugs, “you’ve basically figured it out.”

John softens his voice, “obviously not if you’re still hurting.”

Brian barks out a bitter laugh, “still? It’s going to always hurt.”

“You can’t talk in certainties, isn’t that what you always say?” John replies, “we can’t just ignore this. It won’t help anyone.”

“I can. About this. It’s a Lykan thing.”

“You can’t just say that and expect us to drop it. It isn’t fair to Roger and me when your feelings are about us.”

He sees Brian’s body go tense, “you aren’t entitled to my feelings.”

“When they’re about me I am,” John fights the urge to rub his temples.

“When it starts _affecting_ you, then you are.”

“It is! Do you think I don’t care that you haven’t spent any quality time with us since whatever this is started.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

Brian snorts. John takes a step back in surprise. He knows getting to talk about _concrete_ feelings is as difficult as threading a needle but John’s never dealt with such an aggressive rejection of his help. Maybe he should’ve just let Freddie deal with this. Tension sparks, but it fades as quickly as it came.

“It’s better for me to do this alone. I know what the answer is going to be, how this is all going to go down. Just let me – I don’t know. I’m handling it.”

John tries to swallow the anger, “you might be a genius but that doesn’t mean your assumptions are always right.”

“Then do you _and_ Roger want to be permanently mated to an animal?” Brian spits the words like a challenge.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” John says reflexively.

The rest of the sentence clicks and John’s jaw drops. He might not know what ‘being mated’ would entail, but he knows that its something important to Brian and he knows that Brian wants to be with both him and Roger. It's so far away from the wedding catalog pictures. John staggers under the implications (and the small optimistic part of him chanting that they might be able to work with that). Brian sees that and clenches his eyes closed.

“Out,” he nearly growls.

John wants to go to him and soothe the hurt tone away. All he’s wanted to do tonight is stop Brian from hurting, but it seems all he can do is push him closer to the edge. This time he leaves without a fight and turns his head away from the chastising glance from Freddie who has, of course, heard all of this.

To his great surprise, Roger is frozen in the hallway. Eyes trained on Brian’s door. John knows that if he was barely welcome then Roger won’t be, and he can only pray that he hasn’t ruined Freddie’s permission. He should’ve done everything differently tonight, but he’s so far into uncharted waters that he’s not even sure his head is above them.

It’s Roger that breaks the stillness but grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him to the living room. Freddie watches them go and John can just make out the sound of a door being shut. He probably imagines the raised voices.

“How much of that did you hear?” John asks.

“Enough,” Roger whispers, his hands go into his hair and it looks like he’s tugging harshly at the golden strands, “shit.”

John doesn’t expect the lamp to collide with the wall, but he’s unsurprised when glass dusts over the carpet. A book (one of Brian’s John notes numbly) leaves a dent in the plaster. Coasters join the growing debris pile, as does one of their teacups and platters. He keeps himself still, not wanting to inadvertently step in the way of one of the flying objects or appear to try and stop Roger mid-tantrum.

Finally, the living room is clear of things that would break in a satisfactory way and Roger slumps down on the floor against the recliner. John slowly sinks to his knees next to the shaking drummer. He has a feeling that Roger’s tantrum is directly related to what Brian said, and all John can hope is that the reaction wasn’t because he’s now settled with John instead of having Brian.

While he doesn’t understand being that angry over missed opportunities, he knows it’ll hurt knowing Roger regrets having started a relationship with him.

“I can’t believe he fucking said that about himself.”

John jumps at Roger’s voice. It’s steadier than he thought it would be after the tantrum he just witnessed (then he remembers that Roger doesn’t actually need to breathe so it makes sense why his chest isn’t heaving with anger).

“He acts like the shit people say doesn’t get to him,” Roger grumbles.

Part of him wants to remind Roger that Brian’s never hid how he felt about what people thought about Lykans, but then he realizes Brian’s never actually called it out himself. Roger’s always done that for him. John tilts his head.

“He’s going through a bad spot right now,” John says, “he doesn’t actually think that.”

The words feel hollow.

“It’s fucked,” Roger spits.

John shifts so that he’s now sitting with his shoulder pressed against Roger’s. The touch is calming in its coolness. He looks up to the ceiling. Roger will say enough to explain himself in time. Freddie must be caught up in Brian to not have come out to scold Roger for breaking things they don’t have the money to replace. _I should unplug the lamp before it catches on fire._

“The one fucking thing – fucking mated. Christ.”

He turns his head towards Roger. There’s anger in the corner of his eyes and a faint lavender shade on his irises. John still doesn’t understand this mating thing, but it doesn’t feel like the time to ask.

“What do we do?” He asks instead.

Roger looks at him and shrugs, “we have the luxury to move on.”

Brian wants to handle it and Roger wants to move on, but it seems like no one wants to solve the situation that’s in front of them now. John sighs inwardly. It might as well be him.

“Would it be so bad?”

“What?”

“Also having Brian… you know.”

“There would be nothing _bad_ about that,” Roger shakes his head, “other than how other people would react.”

“Does that matter so much to you?”

“What?”

“If there was no one outside of this apartment, would you have us both?”

“In a heartbeat, but there _are_ people outside. Brian being in that deep, being mated, that has legal repercussions.”

He’s probably not going to get a straight answer unless it’s from Brian himself, and he doubts Brian is going to talk to him in the next forty-eight hours. John tilts his head. It’s certainly a dream to have Roger as he does now, and now it feels like Brian is the fruit forever out of reach.

“John, were you offering…?” Roger trails off.

“I think so,” John shrugs.

Roger blinks and looks away. John notes the nervous rhythm that he’s tapping out, it’s fast and flighty and even tamed he’s not sure it would make a good song. Then Roger is tapping something out and John follows it seamlessly. It’s still fast but it’s found a form and John can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. He won’t remember it in the morning, but it’ll visit him at night. Someday he’ll capture it.

“Let’s –“ Roger clears his throat and clearly changes his mind, “we should sleep on this. Let everything settle and everyone calm down.”

Sleeping now seems pointless considering John can see the faint pink of the sky, but he doubts that any of them are going to attend their responsibilities tomorrow. They’ve all been dragged through the mud and drained from tonight.

“Sure,” John bobs his head.

Maybe the evanescent dawn will give them more guidance. He knows what he would do if there were no other considerations. John doesn’t want society to tell him how to love, but he knows they have Queen’s success to think about and Brian’s sensitive soul to think about and Roger’s fleeting passion to think about and his inexperience with the supernatural to think about.

There’s so much to think about and John finds himself falling into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things did not get resolved. Oops. But the boys just did not want to talk. I promise next story there will be progress made with these idiots (and if they agree to work with me maybe porn). Things aren't easy with these boys.  
> Anyway, as always leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Brian is, an idiot. I love him but man communication would solve 90% of these issues. Like I said, feel free to speculate! I promise things will probably get better. As always leave your thoughts and comments below (no really please leave some so I have something to push me through finals oof), or come talk to me on tumblr!


End file.
